


Nose Against Glass

by Ermmmmmm



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Hospital, M/M, god this is depressing, potentially dead, still not over last night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ermmmmmm/pseuds/Ermmmmmm
Summary: Robert just wants to be there. With him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Riding the crest of my creativity, but not sure if this is much good. Just a very angsty drabble because Robert is sad. Enjoy!

The thin chequered pattern of the glass imprisoned Robert’s consciousness as he looked through, his own Adam’s apple choking his beaten lungs at the sight. It had become something that Robert was beginning to get used to; Aaron laying motionless amongst a sea of clinical white and a rush of blue flittering around him like moths. He was used to the flickering of the square lightbulbs in the panelling above, brutal in their honest dim glow. And he was used to this feeling. This feeling of total loss, as if his own being hung on a knife-edge, on the monotonous tone of the heart rate monitor. He was used to the total numbness of his fingertips, the shortness of breath. He was used to grappling with the fact that he would do anything to switch places with him right now. 

 

Robert pressed his nose forlornly on the glass, finding any which way to be closer to him than the threshold of the double doors permitted. The doctors had banned anyone from entering as they swarmed around his boyfriend’s battered body, hunched over it like vultures diving in for food. All he wanted to do was sit there, feel his warmth. But beyond the thin metal strip at his feet separating the room from the corridor, all he felt was an ice chill. 

 

He couldn’t even feel the pain of his own wrist, throbbing though it was, as the coldness swept through the corridor, through the waiting room, through his veins. In truth, he had almost completely forgotten he was wearing a sling and was on crutches, leaning lopsidedly just to stand. Because he was alive. He could recover. Aaron could die.

 

He remembered the times Aaron would open up to him, about his past, about Jackson. Before Robert had savagely abused him at the scrapyard to make sure he could never be loved again. He remembered the pain etched into the lines on Aaron’s face as he recounted the accident, the uncertainty. How the cleanliness crept up on him, taunted him, made him shiver. How the smell of hand sanitiser would whisk him back to a dark winter’s nights on the ward, the sight of his first love sinking into irretrievable depression. How he could never go there again. 

 

How ironic that it has been Aaron that’s been constantly in the wars ever since, making Robert sick with worry. A past Robert might have cut his losses, realised that this required far too much effort to get any sort of quick gratification or anything meaningful from this, and fled. He almost felt jealous of himself despite himself, waves of shame rolling down his tear-stained cheeks. Life was easier back then, when love meant quick sex and commitment was easy money. Now it was everything. He wanted commitment, to show his worth. To show how much he cared. 

 

Somehow he had kept the ring as he was rescued, water pouring out of the little velvet box onto the linoleum flooring like a mini-waterfall, the ring staying intact. He thumbed around in his grasp, the cool edges digging softly into his skin, reminding him of how different it was this time. Last time he had bought the most expensive he could find, the one that showed her off - the one that made her feel important. This time, Robert knew Aaron wouldn’t care. That he wouldn’t even have expected anyone to want to ask him. Robert would never understand why. 

 

He felt an arm on his shoulder, but he kept his gaze fixed down at the ring. What he had left of Aaron. A splutter erupted from where the hand had come, and Robert looked up to greet it. Chas nodded, shaking wildly as she struggled for air against her agonised chokes. 

 

She had understood. 

 

A rough sigh tumbled down Robert’s bruised chest as he fell into Chas’s uncertain embrace. But as they embraced, Robert felt the kick of his conscience seep new life into his veins. They parted slightly, the corners of their eyes meeting cautiously in muted determination. 

 

Aaron was their boy. 

 

And their fight to keep him had only just begun. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please give kudos and comment if you enjoyed/absolutely hated it! Thanks guys!! :)


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